Poison
by Miss Puppet
Summary: After a woman from Woodbury makes a comment about Sophia, Daryl lashes out and pulls away from the group and Carol in particular. Set after Season 3.
1. Chapter 1

**Poison  
**_Rated_: K+  
_Pairings_: Daryl/Carol  
Disclaimer: It could not be less mine. The Walking Dead belongs to AMC**,** Robert Kirkman , Toby Moore and Charlie Adlard.**  
**_Spoilers_: Season 1-3 and a deleted scene from season 2, the one where they attempt to go back to the Vatos in Atlanta.  
_Summary_: After a woman from Woodbury makes a comment about Sophia, Daryl lashes out and pulls away from the group and Carol in particular.

_Author's notes:_  
The crash you heard a couple of weeks ago? Yeah, that was me, falling like a ton of bricks for the Daryl/ Carol ship.  
This is my first attempt at writing them, so I'm very grateful for any form of constructive critism.

**Part 1**

The place had definitely become more crowded as the remaining residents of Woodbury had settled into the prison. From his relatively secluded spot, sitting near the iron stairs, his crutches stacked neatly underneath his chair, Hershel watched the sea of faces in front of him, sitting in groups around makeshift tables, a plate in front of them, waiting as Carol and Beth dished out tonight´s dinner. Every sound in the room, the voices, the scraping of the chairs, the forks clattering against plates, bounced off the high, concrete walls and floors, magnifying them a tenfold. Sometimes the noise was just overwhelming, even when there wasn't anyone being particularly loud.

"Sounds like a flock of sheep just before shearing," he commented to the man sitting above him on the stairs.

"Sure's hell does," came the surly reply.

Hershel shot him a sympathetic glance. They all needed time getting used to being with so many people again, and Daryl Dixon more so than anyone else.

Being an extremely private person to begin with contributed largely to that, but Hershel also suspected that his experiences in Woodbury, losing Merle at the hands of the Governor and the narrow brush with death he'd had there – probably his narrowest escape yet made that his wariness of the newcomers most likely wouldn't be wearing off anytime soon.

Carol appeared in front of them, holding out two plates to them.

Taking one from her and smiling his thanks, Hershel looked aside to see that Daryl had come down a few steps from the stairs and was now running his fork through the contents on his plate.

"Whatcha do with the squirrels?" he asked, lifting a forkful to his mouth, looking doubtful.

"Made a stew," Carol informed him dryly, the hint of a smile starting around her lips.

"S'not bad," he decided, right after swallowing his first bite. The corner of his lip turned up in a half smile and he held her gaze for a few seconds before dropping it down to his plate again.

"Hold on to that thought," Carol replied her own grin widening, "because there's a lot more of it coming.

"Ya started growing potatoes?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"No, Glenn and Maggie found four dozen boxes of instant mashed potato," she explained. "It should hold us over for a couple of days. So lots of stew coming."

Her expression had become more serious. Feeding such a large number of people was putting a heavy strain on their limited resources.

"I'll go out hunting again tomorrow," he told her, his tone softer. "I'll find ya something."

She shot him a brilliant smile and Hershel discretely avoided his eyes, suddenly feeling like he was intruding on a private moment between the two of them. He kept his eyes pointedly on the people in front of him until she walked away from them.

Finally taking a bite himself he couldn't resist the words that came out of his mouth.  
"Not bad at all."

* * *

Once everybody was eating the place quieted down somewhat and for a while not much else was heard than the scraping of forks and the chewing of food until suddenly a voice rang through the hall. The person who spoke was one of the elderly women from Woodbury who was seated across the table from Carol. She didn't even speak that loudly, but her voice echoed through the room, causing everyone to look up.  
"Say Carol, do you have any family left?"

It was not unusual that the topic of conversation during dinner time turned to life before the outbreak. As they began to know the people of Woodbury and Tyreese's group better, many stories were shared. But out of the corner of his eye Hershel could see Daryl freezing up at the question, his entire body becoming rigid. The long legs that until then had been stretched out casually in front of him were snatched back with a sharp tug. After that he didn't move at all, he held himself completely still, his eyes trained unwaveringly at the woman who had suddenly become the centre of attention.

Carol´s discomfort at feeling all eyes on her was obvious, but she gave the woman a polite smile and answered with feigned nonchalance. "I don't anymore… my husband died back in Atlanta."

"I'm sorry to hear that, dear," the woman replied sympathetically. "Did you have any children?"

Hershel could feel his own stomach twist at the question and he heard how the breathing pattern of the man sitting next to him changed, now coming out in short, raspy puffs. He quickly stole another glance, noticing how every bit of colour had drained from Daryl's face. His lips were pursed together in a hard, straight line, his nostrils were flaring and the muscles of his neck and shoulders were set so tightly he could see a vein throbbing in his neck. The plate of food lay discarded next him on the stairs and his fists were balled tightly into his lap.

A few feet away, Carol's demeanour crumbled. She cast her eyes down and when she spoke her voice was so soft that Hershel had to strain his ears in order to hear her. "I… I had a daughter. Her name was Sophia…" By that time a penny could be dropped for them all to hear and the heavy loaded silence stretched on for a few uncomfortable seconds. Taking a deep breath and focussing her gaze back to the woman who asked the question, Carol seemed to regain her footing somewhat, her voice sounding stronger as she continued.

"After we fled from Atlanta, we came across a herd of walkers on the road. We hid underneath the cars, but Sophia got chased out from underneath by one of them and she fled into the woods. She... she didn't make it."

"But didn't you go after her?" the woman again asked, her eyes wide with horror.

"We did… of course we did. Daryl searched for her for weeks…"

As soon as she mentioned his name, Daryl seemed to snap. He shot up to his feet, the plate falling the ground with a clattering racket, causing everyone in the room to jump.

"Son…" Hershel scrambled to his feet with difficulty, holding on to the handle of the stairs to keep his balance, reaching out his other hand to Daryl, but the younger man pulled back vehemently. Somewhere in the back, Hershel could hear Rick speak, putting an end to the conversation in a not unkind, but very decisive manner. His attention however remained focused on the hunter and for a split second Hershel looked straight into the other man´s eyes and was taken aback by the look of sheer terror in them. His eyes were wide and his pupils so far dilated it made his eyes look almost entirely black. For a brief moment he was reminded of the wounded, dying animals he'd put down in the days he was still a veterinarian. But it was only a second, then Daryl turned around and blindly grabbed for his crossbow before running away, taking the stairs three steps at the time.

Mere moments later Carol was already at his side, ready to run up the stairs after him, but this time when he reached out, he managed to stop her.

"Maybe you should give him some space," he warned her gently.  
Barely even listening to him, Carol brushed off his hand, almost impatiently. "I'm just going to see if he's alright."

"Alright then…" Against his better judgement, Herschel stepped aside, letting her pass. She flew up the stairs and had disappeared into the cell block in a matter of seconds. Heavily sitting down again, Hershel took his plate again and picked listlessly at his food, trying to shake off the feeling of uneasiness that settled over him.

* * *

Carol could make out Daryl's retreating form in the distance and she had to jog to catch up with him. Calling out his name, she frowned a little when he didn't slow his steps or gave any other indication that he'd heard her. Breaking into a sprint, she ran until she'd closed the distance between them, grabbing his elbow to get him to stop.

Upon her touch he turned around like a bolt of lightening, jerking his arm to shrug her off so violently she flew a few steps backwards.  
"WHAT?" He snarled at her, his words dripping with vermin. "What' ya want?"

She gasped at his outburst and for a few moments was so much taken aback that the words dried in her mouth.

As he backed away from her, beginning to turn around again, she surged forward. "Daryl…" she began, cringing at how timid her voice sounded. "I wanted to check… see if you're okay… I mean… I'm sorry about what happened just then…" She was babbling and she knew it. Nervously she twisted her hands in front of her stomach, trying to find her tone with him, trying to grasp back the comfort between them and that she had gotten so used to.

"Are you alright?" She gave him a small smile, hoping, expecting, he'd return it. That it would soften him. It was how they were now, wasn't it?

He didn't move an inch, but the look he gave her was filled with so much contempt and loathing that it caused her insides to clench painfully.

"Get. the hell. away from me!" he growled at her.

"Daryl…!" Her head was swimming with the myriad of disturbing feelings that overwhelmed her. Confusion, shock, hurt, disbelief… She hardly recognized the man standing in front of her anymore. Hardly minutes ago he'd been fine. A little disgruntled perhaps, but fine. He's smiled at her, backhandedly complimented her cooking, shared her worries…. They'd been _them_, had been whatever it was they'd been slowly morphing into over the last couple of months. And now this. And for the life of her she couldn't figure out what had set this off. What made him lash out like this.

"You deaf or what?" he hollered at her when she didn´t move. "Fuck off!"

She tried. Taking a step forward she searched his face, desperately trying to find a clue to his behaviour. But when he spat on the floor right in front of her, she backed off, horrified and humiliated and suddenly she was terrified again. This was Ed. This was the gut-wrenching terror of not knowing when the next outburst would come, what she should or shouldn't do to set him off. This was her shrinking under his words, his looks, his fists until she wished that the pitiful shadow of herself that remained would vanish into nothing. It all blurred in front of her eyes and she did the only thing that she felt capable off.

She ran.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think! **


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer_: It could not be less mine. The Walking Dead belongs to AMC**,** Robert Kirkman , Toby Moore and Charlie Adlard.

_Author´s note_: Thank you for taking the time to read and review the story!

* * *

**Part 2**

It was bad. It was as bad as it could be. Three days since and it seemed that with each passing day he was pulling away more, alienating himself further, not only from her, but from the entire group. The first night, Carol laid on her bunk, wide awake and replaying the scene over and over in her head. As her first panic had worn off she tried to rationalize what had happened. What had it been that set him off? What had caused the cold fury that had been radiating from him all of a sudden?

It didn't take a genius to figure out that it had started with the comments about Sophia. Her daughter was still a forbidden subject between them. A line she instinctively felt she shouldn't cross. But knowing this didn't make her understand. Didn't make her understand what it was about her daughter's demise that filled him with so much rage. She well remembered his rant a few days after Sophia's death, his accusations, his anger. But it had been different then. Inside his hurtful words she'd heard his pain. She'd get that his anger stemmed from there and in a way she'd felt that he deserved this outlet. With his involvement, his relentless looking for her little girl he had earned the right to grief for her as well as all their hopes had died when Sophia had come stumbling out of that barn, soulless and deteriorated. In a way, she had even envied him, wished she could lash out like he had done. Something, anything to release some of the excruciating pain she'd been feeling then. There had been something oddly comforting even in knowing that there was at least one other person who shared her pain. Because despite what he'd flung at her back then, in many ways Sophia had very much been his.

For a while she'd believed that he had blamed her for Sophia's death. His words seemed to indicate that he did so and as she had been filled with remorse to begin with, it had been an easy thing to believe. But as the year went on and their friendship deepened, those feelings gradually started to fade. She became stronger, more in depended, more her own woman now that the threat of Ed's abuse was lifted from her. Knowing she could hold her own ground increasingly more had led to a subtle but significant shift in their relationship. A sense of equality had begun to build between them, only fuelling her budding confidence further. She knew Daryl would always look out for her, would always be inclined to protect her and she loved him for it, but more and more she started to feel that she has something to offer him as well. And the more she believed that, the more any thoughts of him blaming her for her daughter's death faltered.  
She may be insecure, but she wasn't stupid. If Daryl truly believed that Sophia's dead was on her head he would never have given her his trust.

But then what was it? Nothing had changed between them, so why the sudden blow up? For the last three days her thoughts had been turning around in circles, trying to figure it out.  
And apart from that she was starting to get majorly pissed off at his behaviour. His pulling away from her hurt like hell and the unfairness of it all made her blood boil. She hadn't done a darn thing wrong, except for telling a kind old lady about her baby. She'd credited him for this role in trying to bring her back and as far as she remembered she'd been pretty collected about it all. There had been no weeping fits, no burst of emotions, no display of… _feelings_ that usually made him so uncomfortable. So why the hell was he treating her like this?

And of course she was worried sick about him. His pulling away from everyone was a huge setback and it baffled her. She could understand to some level why he was avoiding her, but why the others? As the days wore on, she gathered from snatches of overheard conversations that he was being a complete ass to everyone who dared to cross his path. Rick and Hershel had both tried to talk to him and had both gotten an earful for their trouble. Carl and Beth both stayed the hell away from him and she was floored when she discovered that he'd even snapped at Maggie. Maggie who he usually tolerated around him with a surprising ease. But what really got her stomach in a twist was learning from Beth that for the last three days he hadn't come to see Judith.

It was as bad as it could get.

* * *

The sun was already setting as she heard his bike pull up and despite everything she breathed a quiet sigh of relief, knowing he was back in the relatively safety of the prison's walls.  
She watched him from where she was hanging up laundry to dry, trying to ignore the way her heart clenched painfully at the sight of him. He'd been out hunting from the crack of dawn to the set of dusk for the past three days and she'd been feeling lonelier than she'd felt in a long time, despite Rick's sympathetic glances and Hershel's reassuring pats on the back. She missed him. She missed him like crazy and the thought that their friendship might be ruined beyond repair for a reason she didn't even get was enough to feel sense of panic welling up inside her.

Carl closed the gate behind him while Daryl parked his motorcycle. As he walked passed him, Carol could see him thrust a bundle of squirrels into the boy's hands and say a few words before he stalked off towards the watch tower, never once glancing her way.

She released the breath she'd been holding and angrily swallowed against the lump in her throat. Carl was slowly making his way towards her, looking at her hesitantly as he came to stand in front of her.  
"He says he'll take watch for the rest of the night. He's already eaten… he doesn't need anything."

Carol nodded, forcing herself to smile at the distressed looking kid, although she realized at this point it must look more like a grimace. The words hit home painfully hard. He was warning her off. He didn't need _her_. He didn't need her to come up and bring him dinner like she usually did when he took the evening watch.

"Sorry," Carl offered quietly and awkwardly.

She smiled a little bit more genuinely at that. "It's not your fault."

* * *

For the first time since they'd joined them the Woodbury people where annoying the hell out of her. Their constant talking, their constant noise, their constant demands on her… when finally the last of them had cleared off to their cells she breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She told Beth she'd be alright doing the dishes alone and after some exhausting convincing the girl eventually left as well. She was bone-tired, having barely slept for three days straight and she figured she must look quite a sight, but she couldn't care less anymore. Knowing that she was in for another sleepless night of lying on her bunk rethinking every thought and worry she'd already gone over a million times wasn´t the least bit appealing to her. Instead she figured she might as well make herself useful.

It was almost midnight when the kitchen was spotlessly clean and she felt she might actually get a few hours of real sleep out of sheer exhaustion when she heard quiet voices drifting towards the kitchen, coming from the hall. Peeking her head around the door she saw Hershel and Rick sitting at one of the tables, deep in conversation. Rick was hunched over, his elbows on the table, his head resting in his hands, while Hershel was slumped back as far as his bad leg would allow it, the both of them making a dejected picture.

"I'm telling you, whatever it is, he needs to snap out of it." Rick said gravely, peering at the table top.

"There's something off…" Hershel replied thoughtfully. "You should have seen him… he was almost beside himself, something triggered him badly…"

"But he's giving us no clues," Rick shot back, clearly frustrated. "He refuses to talk to anyone and it's bringing everybody down. They're all distracted and uneasy… it's starting to get dangerous. We need to bring him back."

"For Carol's sake as much as his," Hershel agreed with a sigh. "I don't think she can take much more of this."

"Has she said anything to you?" Rick asked, looking up sharply.

Herschel shook his head in response. "No, but she's starting the get circles underneath the circles underneath her eyes… This has to end."

From her secluded spot Carol looked down at her feet, guilt and embarrassment washing over her. Clearly whatever this was, was her fault. Daryl was pulling away and the group couldn't afford to lose him, couldn't afford to be distracted by this feud between them. Even as she was clueless at what had caused it, she had to fix it.

Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, she stepped into the room, startling both men.

"I'm going to talk to him," she announced quietly.

"Carol, I'm not sure if that's such a good id…" Rick started, but Carol cut him off with a movement of her hand.

"I'm going to talk to him and I'll get him to talk. This has been going on long enough. If it's something I said or did I'm going to resolve it. But anyway, this has to stop."

A heavy silence fell over the room and eventually Rick nodded reluctantly.

"Alright," Carol said, gathering every bit of confidence she could muster. "Is he still up in the watch tower?"

Upon Hershel's affirmative nod, she turned around on her heels and paced outside before she could second-guess her resolve.

* * *

**I´d like to hear what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer_: It could not be less mine. The Walking Dead belongs to AMC**, **Robert Kirkman , Toby Moore and Charlie Adlard.

_Spoiler alert:_ This is where the bit from the deleted scene from season 2 comes in.

_Author's notes:_  
Again, thanks for the reviews, I hope you'll like this next instalment.

mrskaz453: I've been pondering about what you said and you do have a point. As far as I reckon, at the start of season 2 Carol was still very much a battered wife. That didn't instantly end when Ed was bit. It would be interesting to do a story set around season 4 or so, when she's become so much stronger and independent to explore her thoughts and feelings and possibly regrets on that. Who knows, I might actually get around to write it someday.  
That being said, I love Carol as a character, maybe because of all the female characters, I can relate to her the most.

* * *

**Part 3**

He was leaning over the fence of the watch tower, gazing into the dark when she stuck her head out of the shutter. He must have heard her coming, but he never moved or gave any acknowledgement of her presence until he spoke quietly: "Already said I'd take the night shift. No big deal."

She said his name then, as calmly and firmly as she could muster. Immediately his body tensed up and he backed away from the fence, away from her.

"What the hell ya doing here?"

She stepped in fully and watched him for a moment, making sure her stance was strong. Her back straight, her feet apart, her arms folded. He would not scare her off this time. "We need to talk," she announced, careful to keep any emotion out of her voice.

"Aint got nothing to talk about," he spat back.

"I think we do," she replied matter of factly. '_Ignore his outbursts, just get to the damn point_,' she told herself firmly.  
"Is this about Sophia?'' she asked, taking a step closer towards him.

He looked around wildly for a way out, but since she was still standing firmly in front of the shutter he had no other option than to back away from her even further.

"Don't know why ya bringing all that up…" he hissed. "Startin' talking about her again…"

"Excuse me!" The anger that had been building up inside her for days came pouring out all of a sudden. "I hardly ever talk about her… figure everyone has enough of their own to deal with…" The hurt, the unfairness of it made her see red and for the first time she felt like lashing out to him. "But that woman asked a question and I answered it. You're honestly going to stand there and say I can't even talk about my own daughter now?"

He looked at her as if she had punched him and as he stood there, cornered and avoiding her eyes the rest of her rant died away. Taking a deep breath she tried to calm herself, reminding herself that she's come to sort this out.  
"Daryl…" She softened her voice considerably. "If it bothers you I won't talk about her."

"That's not it…"

"Then what is?" She tried gently, taking another step toward him, shocked to see how he flinched away from her again. '_He's terrified_,' she realised with a jolt.

"Sophia's death…" the words obviously caused him considerable difficulty. "It was wrong…"

"I know that," she whispered, holding very still, afraid to make another sudden sound, another movement even in case it would make him pull away even further. "But you tried everything to find her… you gave it all… without you she wouldn't have stand a chance."

His cry of anguish filled the night and the raw, tormented scream cut through her. He kicked the pole fence hard, over and over again until she feared he'd break his bones. She tried to grab his arms, tried anything to reach him, but he continued to kick and punch the wood, his face contorted in fury and pain.

"DARYL!" She finally managed to catch one of his flying fists by closing her hand around his wrist and she used all of her body weight to pull his arm down and to twist him around so he was facing her again. As soon as it had started, it was over and he stood there, panting for breath, his body shaking and his face dripping wet from either sweat or tears. He pulled his wrist away from her hold again, but less violently this time.

"Y'don't get it, do you?" his voice was hoarse and low, but most of the fight seemed to have left him.

"No, I don't. So talk to me," Her heart was pounding in her chest, both from the adrenaline from his outburst and anxiety.

"Yer littl' girl should still be alive," he grunted out.

Talking about Sophia, after keeping silent about her for so long, hurt more than she had anticipated. "I know that," she fought the tears that were raising up in her throat and slipping in her voice. "But it wasn't meant to be, I guess… I don't know… All I do know is that you've looked for her, that you tried to save her…"

"No!" His cry was quieter this time, but all the more broken. "Don't ya see? She'd still be alive… if it hadn't been for me…"

"What..?" She stared at him dumbfounded, not able to wrap her mind around what he was saying. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"It should've been Rick or Shane out there lookin' for her…" His head was bowed, ducked between his shoulders, his voice barely audible. "They'd have found her… I only scared her off…made her run further…"

The words sounded oddly familiar and she racked her brain trying to remember where she'd heard them before. Suddenly it clicked. "That's what Shane said back then," she gasped softly. "Daryl, he was talking rubbish."

"He were right," he insisted. "Sophia was afraid of me… two days before I'd bitten her head off… yelled at her…"

She frowned, trying to make sense of what he was saying and then she remembered. Before they'd head off to Fort Benning they'd attempted to return to the nursing home, a place Rick, Glenn, Daryl and T-Dog has stumbled on when they'd gone back into Atlanta to look for Merle. It had ended in disaster. They'd found the old people shot and the place overrun by walkers, feeding on the decaying remains of the corpses. She still felt the bile rise in her throat just thinking about it. The sight of it had sent Sophia in a full panic attack and she hadn't been able to stop crying and whimpering. With walkers around every corner it had been about the most dangerous thing possible and he had tried to shut Sophia up in the harsh, crude manner that had been so typical of him back then. She'd been less than impressed by his gruff manners and she vividly remembered her own annoyance with him and Lori sticking up for them both. It was only later on, after Sophia had gone missing that she'd come to known his softer side, the honourable man that was in there and defined him far more than his foul mouth and his brother did.

"Sophia wasn't afraid of you," she spoke eventually.

He barked a laugh, bitterly and disbelieving. "I'm tellin' you she was. Ever since then she scampered off the second she saw me… she was terrified."

"She was afraid of many things back then," Carol sighed sadly.

He talked on as if he hadn't heard her. "The yellin' must've scared her… she'd gotten enough of that… she must've thought I were no better than her daddy…"

"Don't go there!" She snapped at him, her anger back in full swing, effectively shutting him up. "Don't you dare go there! You are nothing like Ed… You're the complete opposite of him. My daughter was alone in a forest swamped with walkers… you were there, looking for her, calling out for her… if she had heard you, she would have come running for you, I _know_ that!"

She watched him trying to process her words. His composure relaxed a fraction and he finally looked up at her. Disbelief was still written over his features, but the walls he'd erected around himself for the past few days had begun to crumble and she could feel her own body unclench as the tension left her.

"You really have been thinking all this time that you were responsible for Sophia's death?" she asked him softly.

He gave an uncertain half-shrug and averted his eyes again. "I was so sure I was goin' to find her. So damn sure… when she stepped out of that barn… I couldn't believe it… couldn't believe I'd gotten it so wrong…"

"You didn't…" Fresh tears started to well up in her eyes, this time for him. How could this good, this brave man continue to think so little of himself? But then she realized she knew why. And suddenly it all made sense. His words, his anger, his self-inflicted isolation, right after Sophia´s death and the last couple of days, all of it. The urge to wrap her arms around him, to hold him close until every bit of his self-doubt and guilt was replaced with what she thought him to be was overwhelming, but she fought the impulse down. He wasn't ready, not by a long shot. She suspected that finally opening up about this had taken the sting out of it, but the tremendous guilt and blame he'd put on himself would take time wash away completely. His next words only confirmed these thoughts.

"It never crossed my mind we wouldn't find her. Damn fool, I know… but I needed knowing why… there had to be a reason, shouldn't there?"

"I've asked myself that a million times," she replied quietly, gazing in the distance. When she turned back to look at him she found him watching her, barely able to make out his face in the moonlight. "I felt it was my fault for not keeping her close… or that it happened because God was punishing me… But know I think there wasn't any reason except for the fact that there's evil in the world and lots of it, but…" she took a deep breath and plunged on. "But there´s one thing I´m absolutely sure of: If Sophia had lived… it had been because of you."

She held his gaze, willing him to understand her, to get what she was saying to him and eventually he nodded, almost imperceptible. It was a small step, but it was enough for her.  
She relaxed against the wall of the fence, relief flooding her body. He remained right next to her and for long minutes she simply enjoyed just standing there, listening to his breathing, feeling his presence besides her.

It was him who broke the silence eventually.  
"You should talk about her."

Startled, she looked up at him.

"You shouldn't feel like you can't talk about her. It's not right,"

She clenched her eyes shut and gripped the fence tightly, the memories flooding her, her voice shaking as she started.

"I don't know how. It hurts, but… I'm afraid that if I don't, I'm going to forget her. There're things I already can't remember… a while ago I woke one morning and I'd forgotten the colour of her eyes… I don't want to forget her…" Tears trickled down her face and she swallowed down the sob that threatened up in her throat.

"Shhh…. hey…" He made a soft, comforting noise in the back of his throat, shuffling closer and turning his body. By placing his hand on the fence, right next to her waist he was suddenly standing around her. Not touching her, but shielding her body with his own. She felt the warmth of his body wash over her and smelt his scent. Sweat, salt, forest… Daryl. Taking a deep breath she drank in his comfort, everything he had to give her right now.

His breath tickled her cheek as he bowed his head closer towards her.

"Blue. Jus´ like yours."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think! **


	4. Chapter 4: Stairway To Heaven

**Part 4: Stairway To Heaven**

_Disclaimer:_ It could not be less mine. The Walking Dead belongs to AMC**, Robert Kirkman , Toby Moore and Charlie Adlard. **

_Author's note:  
_Again, thank you all so much for the reviews! Writing for a new fandom and pairing is always a little scary and you've all bee so encouraging!  
This is going to be the last part for this story. I'm still experimenting with the characters, so this won't be a novel-length fic. But there'll definitely more, because this ship is frigging addictive!

Hope you'll enjoy this last bit – I felt like going out with a bit of fluff.

* * *

And so things returned to normal. Or as normal as things in a world infested with flesh-eating undead corpses on the loose got. He showed up for dinner again, discussed matters with Rick and went on runs with Maggie.

It was almost ridiculous how relieved it made her feel. For the past two days she´d had trouble trying to keep the grin that was constantly threatening off her face. For a few terrifying days she´d thought she´d lost him. Perhaps not physically, like the time he'd gone off with Merle, but still in every other way that mattered.

And by just looking at the faces of the members of their group, she could tell she wasn´t the only one feeling that way. Their episode had gone mostly unnoticed by the former Woodbury residents, but their closest of kin had suffered from it as well. And to her, their relief was just as obvious as her own. She noticed it by the little things. Rick was even more pointedly including him in decisions that needed to be made, relying even more on him than he´d done previously. Hershel was seeking him out more as well and somewhat to her surprise she saw that he was actually warming up to the older man.  
The memory of Beth on the first evening he´d stepped into the cafeteria and lowered himself on his usual spot on the stairs still made her giggle. She´d stacked a plate to its fullest and brought it over to him. He´d looked absolutely bewildered at it, more so since she´d already gone to him earlier with a generous helping of stew.  
In general the entire atmosphere in the prison seemed more relaxed now that this huge cloud had been lifted from him and consequently from them all.

It still baffled her that a man who was so observant as he was, who hardly missed anything that was going on around him and was always so quick to connect the dots, could be so completely blind to the fact that he was so much valued by the group. Quick to put the blame on himself and to believe that he was the failure, he still hadn´t fully comprehended just how much he was cared for.

To learn that he blamed himself for Sophia´s death, had been blaming himself for over a year tugged painfully at her heart. She understood him – understood how, in the face of so much pointless pain, the road to self-reproach was an easier one to take than to accept that there just wasn´t a reason. She understood, mostly because she´d seen every dark corner of that particular delusion herself, but she didn´t agree one bit and she was hell-bound on making him see how wrong he was on that score. Their conversation in the watch tower three days prior has only been the beginning.

His current state of mind offered her plenty opportunity to carry out her resolve. For the past few days he´d been in an odd mood. He was hanging around her a lot, constantly seeking her presence, reassuring her that he wasn´t pulling away from her anymore. But he was also quiet and withdrawn, only fleetingly making eye-contact and talking even less than he did before. She felt him staring at her, but he was always quick to advert his eyes the second she turned to him. The few times she´d been too fast for him she´d something like shame in them and she´d figured it out. She didn´t think he was still really blaming himself for what happened to Sophia, but she got that having one of his deepest fears revealed so openly must be highly unsettling for such a private man as Daryl Dixon. And as a result he was simply embarrassed as hell and horribly awkward around her.

So now she was determined to raise to the challenge and draw him out of shell. She´d be damned if she let anything ruin the comfortable ease between them. He was a good and honourable man and it was high time he let that little fact penetrate that stubborn skull of his.

* * *

She found him in the make-shift nursery, bouncing Judith on his arm. It was unbelievable how much the little girl had grown over the past months, despite everything that had happened around her. She wasn´t an infant anymore, tucked away in blankets, oblivious to the world. Eight months old now, she was happy and healthy, in her innocence not aware of any evil. Currently she was popped up on Daryl´s lower arm, leaning against his bicep as he used his other hand to support her back carefully. Judith was now fully capable of holding up her own head and she looked at him studiously with her wide, brown eyes, her small, plump hands tightly grabbing the collar of his shirt.

As she came closer she heard Daryl hum and sing bits and pieces of a song to her and the grin she´d tried to keep back all day finally spilled over her face as she recognized the tune. At the same time her heart fluttered a little at the sight of this perfectly peaceful scene. He seemed completely wrapped up in a world of his own, all of his attention focused on the toddler.

"Led Zeppelin?" she asked softly, not wanting to startle him.

To her surprise he didn't even flinch. He looked up slightly and she stepped even closer to them, effortlessly sliding into this little world of his.

"Don't know no nursery rhymes," he told her just as quietly, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk.

"All the better for her, I'd say," she smiled.

"Can't believe how big she's gettin'," he mused, trying to pry Judith's little fingers loose for the death-grip she had on his shirt.

"I know," she agreed readily. "She's even starting to talk a little… of course it's only jabber talk at this point, but I think we can expect her first word soon."

"Really?" He replied, looking a little doubtful. "So far I only heard her say dah… dah… dah…"

As if on cue, Judith gave a delightful giggle and mimicked his sound, letting go of his shirt and swatting her tiny hands against his face, cracking the both of them up.

"See, she's really trying to say something" Carol eventually pointed out, and after a heartbeat of hesitation she continued, "did you know Glenn has started a betting pool on what her first word will be? He reckons it'll either be 'daddy' or 'Daryl'."

He seemed completely floored by that piece of information and returned his attention back to Judith for a few moments. When he looked back at her though she was relieved to see that his smirk was still in place.

"So, who are you puttin' ya money on?" he asked, his tone teasing and his eyes finally remaining on hers for longer than few seconds.

She took his bait and decided to raise it a little. "You wanna know if I think you have what it takes to win the girl?" she asked him, looking him square in the eye.

As she'd suspected, his ears turned red at her comment and he looked down, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. Just then, Judith dropped off, falling asleep with her head snuggly against his shoulder, dispensing the sudden atmosphere of electricity between them.

"Can you believe that?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder. "She just drops out like a light… just like that,"

"Of course she does," Carol told him, her voice barely above a whisper. "She's completely safe."

If possible, this comment unsettled him more than her flirtatious words moments earlier. He didn't spoke a word, just looked at her, a thousand emotions raging through his eyes.

"I should probably take her to her crib," Carol said after a few moments – when she realized she needed to snap out of this moment, just because she needed some fresh air in her lungs.

"Yeah…" he replied, still somewhat dazed, but handing the baby over to her nevertheless and watching as Judith settled herself in her arms.

"I think I'm going to turn in as well," she told him breezily, trying to talk away the last of the tension between them.  
It wasn't that late yet, but she was still catching up on the sleep she'd missed out on during the days they were at odds. Not that she's was going to tell him _that_.

He reached out and carefully, almost as if he was afraid he was going to break her, Daryl stroked his finger across Judith's cheek.  
"Sweet dreams, littl' asskicker…"

Then he looked back up at her and for a few seconds his look was completely unguarded and very, very vulnerable.  
"Sleep well, big asskicker,"

* * *

**And of course, I´d love to hear what you think! **


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